


in the bleak midwinter

by BatWingsandBlackCats



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Musician!Carmilla, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 05:31:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatWingsandBlackCats/pseuds/BatWingsandBlackCats
Summary: Carmilla, lonely on Christmas day, wanders the streets of Toronto, and ends up finding a tiny little coffee house that seems like it was open for a few hours, just for her.Or, Laura likes to open for a few hours on Christmas day for those who are alone, and it's been quiet all day until a sad musician stumbles in.A Secret Santa gift for @angry-musician





	in the bleak midwinter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! Also, long time no see! Apologies for the lengthy absence, I started working a couple months ago, and due to a misunderstanding with my boss, I ended pulling way more hours than I intended to. 
> 
> But anyway, here's a little fluffy Christmas Secret Santa fic for @angry-musician over on tumblr! Hope you like it!

 

Carmilla had been standing outside the door to a tiny little coffee shop for a good five minutes, staring at the blackboard sign in front of the door. 

 

_If you’re alone this Christmas, stop in for some_

_gingerbread or a piece of mince pie and a hug—_

_we’re open from 12pm-2pm Christmas day._

_No need to buy anything, we’re all family._

Carmilla wasn’t sure why it was taking her so long to decide whether or not she wanted to go inside. It’s not like Toronto was balmy in December, and she was freezing in her leather jacket. After a moment, she finally got her feet to move, and entered the quaint little shop. 

 

The bell above her head chimed as she closed the door behind her, and she looked around the small coffee house, curious. It was softly lit, Christmas lights strung along the walls and a Christmas tree tucked into the corner, covered in white lights--paper snowflakes and gingerbread cookies--by an old upright piano. A basket of gingerbread men sat on the counter between the pastry case and the register. The coffee machines hummed quietly behind the counter, and something in Carmilla relaxed. It was the homiest place she’d been in weeks.

 

Carmilla had had plans to spend Christmas with Elle in their apartment. Just the two of them. That had come crashing down though when she’d returned home from a short tour with her band to find Elle in bed with another woman. She’d been living in an AirBnb since, most of her things in storage, including the gifts she’d gotten Elle for Christmas. 

 

Shaking the memories from her mind, Carmilla walked up to the counter and took one of the gingerbread men (a sign sat in front of it that said ‘help yourself!’) and then wandered over towards the piano, fingers itching to touch the keys. She hadn’t much been in the mood to play lately, and she missed it. She set her cookie down on top of the piano, and began picking out the opening notes to Silent Night.

 

In the back room of the shop, Laura was pulling another batch of gingerbread men out of the oven when she paused at the sound of soft notes flowing in through the open door. 

 

She’d heard someone enter the shop, but her hands had been covered in cookie dough, and she’d found that sometimes people liked entering alone, and getting comfortable before she approached them.

 

This was the first time she’d heard someone play their piano, though. 

 

Setting the oven mitts down on the counter, Laura walked towards the door and peeked out into the shop to find a small woman sitting at the piano, head of dark hair bowed. A black leather jacket cloaked her shoulders, but Laura couldn’t see much else. Laura watched as the woman played, slender fingers dancing over the keys, her shoulders slightly slumped. Laura could hear the woman humming along to the melody, and Laura’s heart ached at how beautiful it was. 

 

 “That was beautiful,” Laura said softly as the melody slowed to a stop, and the woman sitting at the piano spun around.

 

Carmilla whipped around at the sound of a woman’s voice. She hadn’t even heard her. Well, she’d assumed someone was there, in the back, but she hadn’t heard the woman approach the door. When her brain finally caught up, she found the source of the voice, a short, young woman with honey brown hair and a soft face, wearing a red and green apron over what looked like an ugly Christmas sweater. The woman smiled at her, and Carmilla was suddenly dazzled for a moment. “Um...thanks,” Carmilla said with a weak smile. “I--sorry, I haven’t played in a while and I got the itch when I saw your piano,” She said with a little shrug. 

 

 “Don’t be sorry, it was beautiful,” Laura said, and stepped forward. “It’s been a long time since someone played that piano. I assumed it was out of tune.” Laura’s eyes roamed over the stranger, finding dark eyes cast in shadows from her bangs. Pale, sharp features that were somehow still soft in the dim light. She was dressed well, and Laura felt a sense of relief that it seemed that this woman was better off than some of the patrons she’d gotten in the past on Christmas day, though this woman still seemed underdressed. Like she’d underestimated the snow falling outside. Upon closer inspection, the snowflakes that had fallen in the woman’s dark hair and over her shoulders had melted, leaving water droplets in her hair and clinging to her eyelashes, as though she was encrusted with tiny crystals. 

 

“Maybe a little,” Carmilla said, “but it still plays nice.”

 

Laura crossed the room and took a seat beside Carmilla on the piano bench. “So, what are you doing in my shop on Christmas Day?” She asked, giving Carmilla a curious look.

 

Carmilla sighed, fingers picking out a few notes on the piano. “I had plans,” She said, eyes on the keys. “I was away for a while, on tour with my band. But I had plans to spend Christmas with my girlfriend.” Her fingers stumbled on the keys. “My girlfriend had plans too, apparently, that I wasn’t invited to.” Carmilla said dryly. She had no idea why she was telling a stranger this. She hadn’t even told her own sister yet. As far as Mattie and the rest of the world knew, she was curled up in front of the fire, exchanging gifts with Elle right now. But this woman with those big, soft hazel eyes was pulling it out of her like a magnet and Carmilla couldn’t make herself stop. “I’ve been staying at an AirBnb for the last week, and I just...wanted to go for a walk.” She looked up at Laura finally. “Then I found your place.”

 

Laura’s brow was furrowed, her eyes sad. “I’m so sorry...you deserve better than that. Everyone does.” She said with a sigh, and placed a gentle hand on Carmilla’s knee. 

 

Carmilla’s eyes flicked down to the woman’s hand, and she smiled a little. She shrugged a shoulder. “Better to find out sooner than late, I suppose.” She paused a moment, brows crinkling. “I never got you name.”

 

“Oh, it’s Laura. Laura Hollis,” Laura said with a smile as she held her hand out, though her eyes still held the same softness.

    

 “Carmilla,” Carmilla said, taking Laura’s hand and gently shaking it. “Karnstein.” She saw a flicker of recognition in Laura’s eyes, but she was grateful that Laura didn’t say anything. “Though, my being here does beg the question. Why are _you_ open today? Don’t you have family to be with?” 

 

 “I do,” Laura nodded, “but I like opening for a few hours every year, for people who don’t have a place to be or...people to be with. Like you.” Laura’s hand landed on Carmilla’s knee again as she watched Carmilla’s expression turn to something resembling a grimace. “It not out of pity,” She said quickly. “I just want to give people a place to be for a little while. And cookies. Cookies always help.”

 

The wariness Carmilla had felt welling up inside her diminished at the sincerity in Laura’s honey eyes, and her right hand slipped from the keys to rest atop Laura’s. “Thank you,” She said quietly, after a moment.

 

Laura smiled at her, but soon her eyes grew thoughtful. As the silence stretched on, Carmilla’s hand moved back to the keys, and the slow melody of _In the Bleak Midwinter_ began to float around the coffee shop. 

           

“Do you have plans tonight?” Laura asked suddenly, and Carmilla missed a note.

 

“Uh—no,” Carmilla said with a little shake of her head as she looked up at Laura again. 

 

“Would you like to have dinner with my family and I?” Laura asked, eyes hopeful.

 

Carmilla gaped at her, mind spinning a mile a minute. “You want to bring a stranger home on Christmas?” She asked skeptically, trying to squelch the odd hope she felt bubbling in her chest. “I could be an axe murderer...or a con artist.”

 

Laura rolled her eyes. “I highly doubt you’re either of those things,” She said, “all I see is a lonely woman who could use some company tonight. And some food that isn’t take-out. So would you like to come over?”

 

Carmilla huffed out a laugh, shaking her head at the adorable, cheery girl beside her. “I think I’d like that very much.”

 


End file.
